Demons Don't Make Truces
by Cassima
Summary: A challenge fic gone horribly wrong. Buffy is locked in a crypt with Spike.


Demons Don't Make Truces Demons Don't Make Truces by[Cassima][1]

Rating: PG... PG-13... Don't read if mild swearing and silliness bothers you. Of course, mild sexual references, too.

Disclaimer: Oh, yeah, I wish.

Summary: It's silly. Weird. I like my characterizations, though. And, no, I don't know why everyone's so on edge. It's probably hormones. ::g::

Challenge: From Kitty. Requires the following elements: Spike as something other than a bad guy, the time frame of during the second season, white grape jello, green hair, black silk boxers, most of the characters saying, "Xander, stop TOUCHING me!", plum purple nail polish, and the line "The moral of the story is..."

**Takes place in the second season**, in case you didn't read the challenge requirements.

And now, let the games begin.

==========================================================

_"Well, there's plan B. Let's just shoot each other."_

--Castor Troy, _Face Off_

==========================================================

"Giles, I'm sorry, but no." Buffy shook her head with an air of definite refusal. "No way, no how, not going to happen."

"Buffy, I, uh, I don't think you quite understand," the flustered librarian stuttered helplessly. "Tonight is the night of the Tirna Rog B'getha'l--"

"--Tirasnu Shipshu Yadablah, whatever!" Buffy interrupted. "Yet another one of these hopeless, stupid ritual days. You know, I think you make these up, just so I can't go out!"

Giles removed his glasses and polished them studiously against his shirt with a feel of suffering patience. "Buffy, you're not taking your slaying duties seriously. I don't mean to pry--"

"Then don't!"

"Buffy, it's not that simple. You're the Slayer. I understand that you want a life; we all do. But, if this demon is not stopped tonight, he's going to eat three little children and poison all the water in the area in a ritual that will make him immortal! I just want you to go to the crypt on Elm until 10:00; if he hasn't shown up by then, it means that he was killed by one of your predecessors, Kirstin, the last time he made an appearance on this plane." He gave her his best long-suffering look. "Just until 10:00. Then you can go and make out in the cemetery with your un-dead boyfriend until the cows come home, for all I care."

"Giles..." She looked down at her hands helplessly. "I just painted my nails..."

==========================================================

The little funny vampire pushed his glasses back onto his face nervously. "It seems that the demon Tirna Rog--"

"Oh, yes, the big ugly one with the blue warts. I remember him," Spike reminisced. "Tonight's his big night, eh?"

"We should throw him a party!" Drusilla cried, pleased.

"Good idea, my pet," Spike agreed with a wicked smile. "It's a party I wouldn't want to miss!"

==========================================================

"Hey, Giles," Xander chirped. "Where's da Buff-meister?"

"Buffy? She, uh, had to rid the world of some demon scum. She'll be done by ten."

Xander nodded, somewhat unnerved. "So... she's killing stuff, Willow's out being the studious little nerd she is... I guess it's just you and me, eh, G-man?" He wrapped an arm around the unfortunate Watcher's shoulder. "Ready for some wild fun with Parcheesi?"

"Xander, stop touching me."

==========================================================

"Here, demon. C'mon, Tirna Rogna Fog-dee-do-dah-day... Here, demon demon demon." Buffy tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Maybe she should just cut it all off... "This is *so* a waste of my time. Fine, if Big and Ugly won't come to me, I'll just take a little peek into Dark and Mysterious." Venturing over to the crypt's door, she slammed the handle with one blow, sufficiently breaking the lock. "Whoops..." Shoving the ancient door with one hip, she toted her Crossbow of Doom into the dark room. "This place is a lot bigger than it looks from the outside..." she muttered to herself.

==========================================================

Spike frowned a little to himself as he regarded the door of the tomb. "Somebody's been naughty..." he scolded as he entered the tomb.

Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind him. The room lit up with a bright blue lightening that crawled over the walls. Spike shaded his eyes as they struggled to get used to the glaring brightness. "What in the bloody hell...?"

"**HALT,**" a booming voice commanded him. "**YOU HAVE ENTERED THE SACRED SHRINE OF THE TIRNA...**" The voice babbled on, but Spike groaned and tuned it out.

Finally, it began on the more important, immediate matters. "Like why it shut the bloody damn door," he prompted under his breath.

**"THIS IS A SACRED PLACE THAT YOU HAVE ENTERED. DO NO VIOLENCE. TAKE NO LIFE. THIS IS A SACRED PLACE."**

"Yo, Big 'n' Ugly! You said that already!" he heard a voice yell from far to his left.

He froze.

"The Slayer!"

She whirled to face him. "Spike!" The loathing in her voice was thick enough to hack at for a while with a chain saw.

The two long-time enemies began to circle each other, each sharpening their wit, preparing to be the killer and not the killed--

"**DO NO VIOLENCE!!!**" the voice rang again, and this time a demon appeared, orange body bathed in the mysterious blue light, blue warts oozing puss, green hair slithering angrily around his ugly head. "**THOU SHALT DO NO VIOLENCE HERE.**"

"But he's evil!"

"She wants to kill me!"

"**NO EVIL SHALL BE DONE IN THIS SACRED PLACE! IF THOU SHOW'ST BRAVERY AND TOLERANCE IN THE FACE OF THY GREATEST ENEMY, THOU SHALT BE REWARDED. IF VIOLENCE TAKES PLACE IN MY SACRED HOME, BOTH OF THY PEOPLES WILL SUFFER!**" He faded from view, the blue lightening still arcing over the walls.

The two mortal enemies stood there for a minute, staring at each other, Spike with his fangs bared, Buffy with her crossbow set, finger on the trigger.

Finally, Buffy broke the silent vigil. "You put away your Ugly Face, I'll put my crossbow down."

"Deal."

Neither moved.

"On three. One... two--"

"Is it one, two, put-down-on-three, or one, two, three, THEN put down?"

Buffy gave him a disgusted look.

"Hey, it's a perfectly legitimate question!"

"One-two-three, then we're all friends until Big Orange with the Acne opens the door. Ready?"

"Oh, this is going to be FUN."

"One... two... three... drop!" She set her crossbow down with a click while he shrugged off his feeding face.

They stared at each other for a moment before racing to the door.

==========================================================

Taking another spoonful of white grape Jell-O, Willow absently turned the page on her trig book. "One more problem and I'll have myself set for the next couple weeks," she psyched herself. "No, no, calm down. You don't want to choke in the final round."

==========================================================

"Xander, will you Please, for the love God, stop TOUCHING me!" Giles snapped, at the end of his rope.

"Take a chill pill, man!" Xander snapped back, shaking one of the relics he had been "helping" to classify. "It's not *my* fault you always seem to be under my feet!"

"Xander, I haven't moved since 8:30! You keep walking into me! It's driving me *crazy*!" Actually, it was making him more homicidal than crazy, but certain common courtesies kept him from saying so. Damn those courtesies.

"I hate it when you defy my reasoning with logic!" Xander grumbled, tossing one of the strange metal pieces up in the air and catching it deftly. Up, down. Up, down. Up--

"Will you cut that out!" Giles snapped, snatching the piece from mid-air and laying it gently back on the table. "Why don't you go and bother someone else now." It was not a question.

"Because that wouldn't be as much fun!" Xander chirped, rather chipperly.

"Oh, bugger," Giles muttered, spitting the word out hatefully, wishing against hope that his lucky black boxers were working.

==========================================================

"That won't work," Spike called, leaning against a wall.

Glaring at him, Buffy turned back to the lock on the door. "I almost have it..." Twisting the crossbow bolt carefully, she bit the side of her cheek. "Almost... almost..." Suddenly, the lock sparked with the blue lightening, and she yanked her hand back with a yelp.

"Told you."

"What, you just expect me to sit here and play nice while you come up with a million ways to stab me in the back? No, I don't think so. I have to get out of here. I have a life... I can't believe I let Giles talk me into this!"

"Well, I'm sure he didn't know this was supposed to happen--"

"Oh, no, don't you start playing nice with me!"

"Sorry."

She looked down at her nails in the pale light of the blue lightening. "I can't believe I chipped a nail! I'm all out of Plum Purple... It was my favorite color, too..."

"PIty. Maybe if we ask Big Orange nicely, he'll let you out to go buy some more."

"Did I ask you?"

==========================================================

"Touch me again, Xander, and I swear I'll..." Giles made a threatening noise in the back of his throat.

"Okay, that time it was SO not my fault!" Xander snapped. "I was looking at the book when you just moved your arm in the way!"

"Have either of you seen Buffy?"

They jumped about two feet into the air before calmly turning around.

"Oh, hello, Angel." Xander nodded, pretending to be totally unaffected by the other's abrupt and silent appearance.

"I haven't seen her all night. We were supposed to meet a half-hour ago." The vampire shifted his posture slightly, nervous.

Giles looked at his watch. "She was off to watch the crypt of the demon T--"

"Yes, but he's done his thing already. She should have been done by now." Angel ran a hand over his short, spiky hair. "What do you know about the demon?"

"Well... uh... He's... uh... quite large... and... uh..." Giles began to flip through a book while attempting to keep his train of thought going. "He... uh, he appears every 72 years or so, depending on the... uh, the cycle of the moon and... and a few other characteristics that..." he rubbed at his legs, wondering why, all of the sudden, his lucky black boxers didn't seem to be working.

==========================================================

"...And so, with the help of Mickey, I salted the beach and killed all the snails!"

Buffy looked up, eyebrows askew. "And the moral of the story is... take out your sexual frustration on helpless sea life?"

He glared at her. "NO. The moral of the story is, don't get your slimy little trails all over my private yacht."

"The poor snails..."

The conversation trailed off into nothing again.

"So," Spike began awkwardly again, "how's that annoying guy doing?"

"You mean Angel?"

"No, I mean, the annoying one. That you're always hanging out with."

"Giles?"

"No, the *annoying* one!"

"Xander?"

"Yeah, that one."

"He's fine."

"Oh."

Another awkward pause.

"So... how's your bitch?"

"Don't talk about my Dru that way."

"Sorry."

Silence.

"So, how's--"

"Don't even go there, Spike."

"Sorry."

"How's the Anointed One?"

"Nice and dead."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I killed him."

"Oh."

"He was rather whiny."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, such a bloody shame."

Another long, dreary, dreadfully awkward pause ensued.

"You were saying about your History teacher? Mr. Kanjar?"

"He's evil."

"So am I."

"Yeah, but his evilness is more in the creepy, while yours is actually more endearing."

"Have you tried slaying 'im? Maybe he's a demon."

"...Nah. That's just the way teachers are. Unfortunately."

"I wouldn't know. I never went to school."

"Stop bragging."

An antsy pause.

"You think I'm endearing?"

==========================================================

"Well, I'm here. So, what's the big mystery?" Willow leaned onto the counter, attempting to read Giles' book upside-down. "Bog monsters? But, we don't live by a bog..."

"Buffy's in trouble. She's trapped in the tomb of the T--"

"Oh, that thing that you were looking up earlier?" Willow looked disillusioned. "I thought it was going to be something cool..."

Giles shot her an exasperated look. "Willow, this is serious. Buffy could be in terrible danger! She could be killed! I didn't expect such callousness, not from you. Of all people..."

"So-rry." Willow rolled her eyes at Angel, who shot her a startled but yet, somehow, sympathetic glance. "So, what do you need me to do?"

"Start searching the books for anything on the Tirna Rog--"

"Found it." Willow spun the book around and pointed to the whole chapter named "Tirna Rogs and other fun Creatures of the Tomb". "Can I leave now?"

"But--but--but..." Giles sputtered.

Angel, feeling sympathy, took the book out of the stressed librarian's hands and began to leaf through the pages. "It says here that the demon used to run free, y'know, killing and rampaging and--eh... well, until Kirstin--she was a couple Slayers ago--defeated it. It became a tourist attraction, but the demon has turned kind hearted. It tries to bring mortal enemies to peace by locking them up until sunrise together. I wonder who it put with--"

"Xander, stop touching me!!" Willow kicked the other boy's foot away from her. "Excuse me, but enough of the footsie! I'm not that kind of girl, Xander!"

"I'm sorry, Willow! I thought your foot was Giles!"

Willow looked like she was going to be sick; Angel's face shared the same sentiments.

"He didn't mean that the way it sounded..." Giles attempted weakly.

"You know what?" Willow interrupted. "I don't really want to know." Turning with a shudder, she began to head to the crypt that contained her best friend. Angel eyed the two embarrassed men next to him. "Me, either." He fled into the shadows.

"Giles..."

"Xander, just stop touching me."

==========================================================

"--Take one down, pass it around, 17 bottles of beer on the wall! 17 Bottles of beer on the wall, 17 bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around--"

==========================================================

"Okay, so where are we going again? This crypt is... where?"

Angel examined the darkness. "Elm Street, off of Harding Way."

"And, where are we?"

"Uh..."

"And, WHY wouldn't you stop for directions?" Willow shot him a disapproving look.

Back in the darkness, though, Angel could hear the other two members of their party:

"XANder, if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, STOP TOUCHING ME!!"

"Touch! Touch! Touch! Touch!"

Angel gave Willow a scared face. "I was afraid they'd catch up."

Willow looked back at the two men. "Let's go that way," she suggested quickly, and they set off at a harried pace, off to anywhere-but-here. 

==========================================================

"Another round?"

"No, thanks. If we sing "9,999 Bottles of Beer on the Wall" one more time, my head may just explode."

There was an awkward silence.

"You want to just start with 99 this time?"

"Let's do that."

==========================================================

"I don't think we're in Sunnydale anymore."

"I don't think we're in California anymore."

The street bum looked at them oddly. "So, you tried the beer yet, eh?"

Angel screamed. "NO! NOT CANADA!!" With a howl, he fled.

"Angel..." Willow called after him. "Angel, that way's west... to leave Canada, we have to go South..."

==========================================================

"I spy with my little eye, something that is.... blue."

"Gee, let me guess. Could it be... the blue lightening on the walls?"

"... Your turn."

"I spy with my little eye, something that is... black."

"What isn't? I mean, besides the lightening?"

"..."

==========================================================

"... and furthermore, Angel, I don't think they appreciated it when you started screaming about "those damn Canuks". Don't you have any decency?"

Angel looked down, embarrassed. "I'm sorry... it's just that accent! It gets me every time!"

Willow looked at him incredulously. "Angel, their accent is barely noticeable!"

"...'Eh?'" he mimicked with a shudder.

Willow massaged her sinuses. "I can't believe I gave up Trig for this."

==========================================================

"**WARRIORS.**"

"Big Orange!"

"About bloody time..."

"**I AM PROUD OF THINE ENDURANCE. IT IS PLEASING TO ME. I SHALL REWARD THEE.**"

Buffy perked up. "Really? Could you start by fixing my nails?"

"**GRANTED**."

"And getting me a pack of smokes?" Spike added.

"**IT IS DONE.**"

"Wow!" they both exclaimed, pleased.

"**AND NOW, FOR THY GRAND PRIZE: WHITE GRAPE JELL-O**."

Two goblets appeared in front of them, each containing a silver spoon.

"**EAT IT, AND BE GLAD.**"

They missed his last words, though, in their mad rush for the open door.

==========================================================

Buffy emerged from crypt, thanking every diety she had ever before cursed. "Free!! Bye, Spike!"

"We'll have to do this again sometime," the vampire agreed, turning away. "That is, if we're ever not killing each other."

"Point," Buffy conceded.

Amiably, they parted ways.

==========================================================

"Buffy!" Willow cried joyfully, "You're free!!!"

"Yeah, Big Orange got sick of us." She examined her nails with a frown. "Hey, this isn't Plum Purple! Turning back towards Elm Street, she yelled, "You owe me a new manicure, you SOB!"

Xander ran up and threw his arms around her. "Buffy!! I'm glad you're okay!" He ran his hands up and down her back.

"Xander," she growled, "stop touching me, or you will become my personal punching bag."

The teen abruptly let her go, eyeing the vampire.

"Don't even think about it," Angel told him with a stern glance.

"Okay, then..." Xander skipped over to Giles and wrapped an arm around the disgruntled Watcher's shoulders.

"Buffy," the other man began, rather tiredly, "are you all right? Xander, for the love of--will you stop touching me!!"

==========================================================

_And the moral of the story is... do not eat jelly that tastes like pears._

************************************************************************

::evil laughter:: What do you think? I tried to use every requirement at least once... You know, it's hard to write Spike as not a bad guy during the second season... it's hard to distinguish the seasons. Well, at least, for me.

Okay, this is my spiel: 1) this is for your amusement only. Do not fax me money. It doesn't work. 2) Interpret what you want about whatever. If you go where I did not, you have a very, very sick mind. 3) I live in Michigan, at the only point in the US where you go south to go to Canada. I have nothing against Canadians. Really. Hey, have you heard the one about the Canadian who-- 4) I have nothing against History teachers. In fact, my history teacher right now is a really nice immigrant. He came from Canada. 

   [1]: mailto:black_cassima@hotmail.com



End file.
